A Note to my Mom.

Friends - I decided to do things a little different today. As it’s Mother’s Day, I felt an impulse to write a little love letter to my own mother. This year marks the 10 year anniversary of her passing. It was also our last Mother’s Day earth side. Had I know 10 years ago that I wouldn’t have another card to mail her, another FaceTime to make would I have said or done anything differently?  At the time, I was pregnant with my first baby girl - Maeve. My mother, Anyu (that’s “mom” in Hungarian) was the single most excited person for her first grandchild. From the moment she found out, to the months following, she would constantly collect gifts for Maeve. From onesies (lots of yellow since we didn’t know gender) to a giant stuffed lamb that to this day, Maeve holds onto every night as she sleeps. It’s like in some deep way she knows her Grandma bought it for her and holds on tight as she falls asleep. 

The last time I got to hold my mother’s hand and hug her was the weekend of my baby shower in New York City in 2014. My parents didn’t want me to know how quickly her health had deteriorated. Instead, they just said she had a lot of fluid retention (I would later learn it was ascites, a sign the cancer had returned). When she arrived in NYC with my aunt and in-laws I was frustrated she was so tired. I was in denial. I couldn’t see my mom in that state - I refused to accept that she wasn’t well. I remember arguing with my aunt that she just had a cold and she would be ok and she was just being dramatic. She had been diagnosed over 2 years before with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. She beat so many odds. She had the whipple procedure, she got chemo - she was cancer free. A miracle truly. So there was no way it was coming back. Not when she was about to be the best grandmother that ever lived.  I look back at my frustration with her and realize it was so misplaced - I was angry at life that these moments would be taken from her, from us. The amount of regret I suffer from to this very day with how I handled it all runs deep.

I look back on those last few days with her and as I write this my throat closes up. The last dinner we had. North End Grill in Battery Park City. I had no clue it would be the last time we would share a meal. But when I took her to the airport that Sunday, I remember walking her to the check-in counter and as I walked away, I turned around and she was staring at me. In that moment I know, as a mother now, that she was processing it was the last time she would see me in person. In hindsight I wish I would have run to her and hugged her again and again. But I guess that’s why they say hindsight is 20/20. My dad told me recently that when he picked her up at the airport in Toronto she was quiet, not chatty like she normally would have been. Because he knew that she knew what that trip really was. 

The last picture of my husband Mike and my mom in New York City on May 30, 2014

My mom and I, in our last picture at my baby shower on May 31, 2014

I gave birth to Maeve 11 days past my due date. A failed induction after 24 hours of trying to get her out naturally. On July 2 at 11:13pm I gave birth to a big healthy baby girl with jet black hair and chubby cheeks. On July 22, I lost my mother. The  irony of the highest highs and the lowest lows was never lost on me. I was overjoyed by this little person who truly changed our lives. Watching my husband become a father, my own worries about how I would be a mother just disappeared - it just all came together. But in the moments when I had a question or just wanted to call my mom, those were the hardest. To this day they still are. Are there moments of bitterness? Yes. A lot of them if I’m being honest. We were all robbed of my Anyu. She would have been by our side through some of the hardest moments we have had to endure as a family. She would have moved in and helped in a way only a mother can. Her loss was exponentially more felt over these last two years. But she also taught me how to be a mother. She showed me the single most important lesson every day of my life - she made me feel loved. She taught me that if you make your children feel loved the rest is gravy. The security and confidence that comes from feeling the love and affection of your mother builds something in you that nothing can replace. I was never the prettiest, skinniest, smartest or most athletic (literally wasn’t an athlete at all) but I always felt a calm confidence that I know comes from how I was raised and the love she showed me every minute of every day.  While my mother isn’t here to pass on pearls of wisdom after a panicked phone call, that deep rooted knowledge is more powerful than anything she could tell me in person. And my sweet girls are the luckiest recipients of that simple lesson. 

Molly and I on “Skype” with my mom so she could see the baby. She passed away 3 days later. We were living in NYC at the time and had to wait for Maeve’s birth certificate to arrive before we could travel to see my mom and dad. It came the day before she passed away. I believe in my heart my mom didn’t want me to see her at her worst so she left us before that day arrived.

My mother was truly a beautiful person. Friendly, kind, loving and a damn good cook. She also would talk to a brick wall (no need to wonder where I get it from). I would go to the grocery store and let me tell you - every check out person knew my name, that I lived in New York City and that I had a “big job” in fashion. She humbled bragged about me all the time. But she also knew everyone’s name and their children’s names too. She took care of me. She babied me (probably more than she should have - I got fresh squeezed orange juice every morning when she would gently wake me up for school). She loved with all her heart - and I would like to believe that she passed that down to me, and I in turn am passing it down to our girls. 

So on this Mother’s Day, I wish my Anyu a beautiful day watching over us as I know she has been doing (I see that little red robin every morning on our deck). I also wish all the mamas, the hoping-to-be mamas, the heartbroken mamas, the ones who have their mamas in heaven along with mine a special day. This is a day of celebration for most, but also a day of difficulty for others. I see you all and send my love from the bottom of my heart.  With love always, Em xx